


The Cliffs of Delphi: Young Hounds

by GreyLiliy



Series: The Cliffs Of Delphi [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Canon-Typical Violence, Flogging, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-10 03:11:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2008695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hunting Hounds must be trained, and you start when they are but pups.</p><p>One-Shots and shorts surrounding Vos, Tesarus, and Helex as teenagers in Tarn's household. Shorts may not be in chronological order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Twig

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rothinsel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rothinsel/gifts).



> Written in June 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tesarus thinks the new guy, Twig, is cute.

Tarn pulled a skinny little thing with ripped clothes, and a face that’d scare the dead with the glare it was wearing, out of the carriage with a light tug. Tesarus leaned against the window, teeth sunk frozen in an apple. Skinny thing’s coloring was tan like over-cooked bread, and his cheekbones stuck out on his long face. Kid was bone thin; no meat on him at all. Tesarus bit down into the apple.

He looked like a twig.

"Hey Helex," Tesarus said around a mouthful of apple, "I think that kid’s got an earring."

"You are seventeen years old," Helex sighed and flipped a card over, his back to the window. He put a Queen on a King, starting the next row in his solitaire game. Helex sniffed, and drew another card. "How have you not learned to finish chewing and swallow before you start talking?"

"Yeah, and I thought you’d know better than to talk back to your elders by the time you were fifteen, Heelie," Tesarus said, flicking his buddy in the head. He tapped the window and fogged it up with his mouth. Tesarus drew a little circle around the new guy, before wiping it all away. Tarn kept a grip on the kid, but it wasn’t a strong one—not keeping the kid from running, more like a guide. Tesarus sucked on his apple, dribbling juice down his hand. "But for real, what’s your bet? Downstairs or upstairs? He’s kinda pretty, but what a mess."

"I don’t really care, Tesarus," Helex said. He threw his handful of cards onto the stack, and started to pull them all together. Helex shoved the cards in his pocket as Tarn and his new acquisition (and Helex said Tesarus didn’t know any big words—ha!) walked up the front steps. "Long as we stay upstairs, don’t matter none to me."

"Point," Tesarus said, taking another bite. As the new kid got closer, Tesarus could see just how loose his clothes hung, and the dirt clinging to him. That was definitely an earring in his ear, which was weird for a gutter rat—which is what Twig looked like, if Tesarus’d ever seen one. Tesarus sucked the juice off his hand. "Should have guessed Tarn’d pick up a souvenir on his trip."

Helex smacked Tesarus in the side, and smoothed his clothes down. “Straighten up, would you? He’ll be here any second.”

"Yeah, yeah," Tesarus said. He took one last bite of the apple, before tossing it across the room into the waste bin. Tesarus sniffed, rubbing his hand across his nose, before tucking in the back of his shirt and hopping off the window seat. "Not that Tarn cares much."

A servant kid opened the door for Tarn, right on cue as Tesarus and Helex walked up the way. Tarn, towering tall and near filling the entire grand entrance, walked in pushing the twig in front of him. He shuffled inside, dwarfed by Tarn’s presence (though to be fair, the big Master sort of did that to everyone—even Tesarus!), with a steady frown on his face.

"Boys, it’s good to see you again," Tarn said, smiling. He put his hand on the new kid’s shoulder and squeezed. "I know it might be too much to hope that the house is in one piece after being gone a month, but I hope the damage is at least repairable?"

"Good to have you home, Sir." Tesarus bit his lip to keep from laughing too loud, and shrugged. "And nothing we couldn’t cover with a rug this morning."

The boy flinched when Tarn started to belly laugh, and glanced between him and Tesarus with a cautious edge. There was a real fire in those eyes, so sharp and cautious. They were totally out of place on the malnourished pick up. Tesarus’ mouth opened in a tiny gape.

_Twig was cute._

* * *

Twig’s real name was Vos, and his English weren’t too good from what Tarn told them.

The few times Tesarus had managed to drag a word or two out of those thin lips, they were clipped and sullied with a broken accent. It was cute, but a little frustrating when you were trying to figure out if he’d understood what Tesarus had said or not. Not that it mattered all that much: Twig was a quiet little stick.

"Tarn said we’re gonna’ be working together," Tesarus said, hanging over the side of the footrest on Twig’s bed. He plucked at the coverlet, grinning at the feather’s he’d picked loose. Twig’d been staring at the change of clothes Helex brought him for about two minutes, and made no move to change. Or kick Tesarus out. "Did you hear that part when he was introducing us, or what?"

Twig glared at him and glanced a the door.

"What? You shy or something?" Tesarus laughed. He flicked a feather toward Twig and grinned. "I’m supposed to escort you down to the dining room after you change, and hell if I’m gonna’ stand outside in the hall like a proper little maid while you do it. There’s a bathroom right there if you don’t want me watching. I won’t peep, cross my heart."

Twig sighed, with just a hint of confusion in his glaring stare. Didn’t understand Tesarus. Okay, that was okay. Tesarus pulled up over the footrest, and collapsed on his back on the bed with his knees hanging over the back. He covered his eyes and laughed. “Change already so we can go eat.”

Clothes rustled and the floor creaked as Twig gathered up the fresh clothes. Tesarus dropped his arms with the slam of the bathroom door and chuckled. Kid was shy. Tesarus bit his lip and stared hard at the closed door.

_That was cute, too._

* * *

"Vos won’t be joining us immediately, you must understand," Tarn said, slicing into the steak Tesarus had butchered that morning. He chewed and swallowed before continuing his sentence. "But he’ll be joining sooner than you two think I imagine. He’s got quite a lot of experience under his belt, and I’m sure after a quick test run or two he’ll have it all under control."

"What kind?" Tesarus asked. Twig poked at his plate, eating and chewing a bite here or there, but no eating much. Tesarus licked back of his teeth, glancing at his bone thin arms. Probably didn’t want to throw it all back up and waste it. Tesarus smiled and ate another piece of his own steak. "Like, for fun experience or worked for someone experience, or what?"

"Little of both," Tarn said, shrugging lightly. He tilted his head at Tesarus, and cut another piece of meat off his plate. He smothered it in potatoes and it disappeared past his lips. "Much like yourself, though under poorer conditions."

"Oh," Tesarus said. He pointed at Twig with his fork, before biting off the piece of meat at the end. Helex kicked him under the table, and Tesarus chewed and swallowed before asking, "What’d you do?"

"What do you do," Twig answered in return.

Little shit, Tesarus laughed to himself. He grinned and put his shoulders back as he straightened up. Tesarus said, quite proudly, “I’m a butcher.”

"You insult yourself," Twig said, tilting his head just so to the side. Honest confusion plastered all over his face was a telling sign. He licked the edge of his lip and glanced quickly at Tarn and, before looking back to Tesarus. "Why?"

Helex and Tarn started to snicker on cue, confusing Twig even more. Tesarus hunched his shoulders up and huffed. “I didn’t. Nothing wrong with being a butcher, and I’m a damn good one if the steak you’re eating is any sign.”

Tesarus shoved another cut in his mouth and chewed. Little brat.

“‘Butcher’ has more than one meaning, Vos,” Tarn said, chest still rumbling. “It can either mean something that’s been sloppy or messily done, or it refers to a profession where one knows how to chop meat.”

"Tessy happens to be both," Helex said, elbowing Tesarus in the side.

"Hey!" Tesarus shouted back, shoving Helex in the side. Helex wasn’t supposed to gang up on him like that. They were friends! Tesarus pouted. "That ain’t true!"

Twig smirked the tiniest bit in humor, before shoving his stony expression back on with a vengeance.

_Well, hell if that weren’t cute, too._

* * *

Twig followed Tarn around like a duckling followed its mum.

Never talked to him, never touched him—just sort of stuck close, ready and waiting to be told to do something. Tesarus whistled a bit as he cut open the pig on the chopping table. He couldn’t tell if that was cute or creepy. But, sure as clockwork, if you wanted to find Twig, you only had to look for Tarn.

Except for today, of course. Tesarus whistled slower, keeping his eyes on the thin lad across the kitchen messing with the kettle. Today, Tarn was out of town.

"You know the maids normally make Tarn’s tea for him," Tesarus said, slapping the knife into the cutting board. He flicked it’s handle before pulling out a handful of intestines and dropping them in a pan. "You don’t have to do it."

"Like it," Twig said, filling the boiling kettle with tea leaves. He put the extra back in their box, and placed it back on its shelf without so much as dropping a single leaf on the counter. "Relaxing."

Tesarus shrugged, shifting the contents of the tray to flatten out the innards. He pulled it off the table and put it behind him before picking up his knife. Tesarus went back to work, cleaning the pig as he asked, “You ready for tonight?”

"Are you?" He asked, glancing back.

"Uh, yeah?" Tesarus answered, splitting the leg from the hog. He dropped it on the table before going for the next one. He grinned at Tesarus and winked. "That’s why I asked you."

Twig took the kettle off the stove, and poured a cup of tea. He finished setting the tray before lifting it gracefully and walking past Tesarus toward the door to the sitting room. Half way out the door, Twig said, “Yes, I am ready.”

Tesarus whistled again, and licked the back of his teeth.

 _Damn_ ,  _Twig was cute._

* * *

"I think you and I are going to be working together for a long time, Twig," Tesarus said, standing over the body. The moon was bright above their heads, and Tarn was cleaning up with Helex, leaving Tesarus and Twig to move the body of their ‘test’ victim. It had been a rather successful first night out, if you asked Tesarus. "That was art, you was."

His new partner stilled, putting knife away into it’s holster. He snapped it closed, clicking the clasp into place before putting it in his vest. He looked at Tesarus, and raised an eyebrow. “Twig?”

"That’s you," Tesarus said, throwing the body into a bag. He tossed the bag over his shoulder and gave his new partner a winning smile. "You’re Twig."

"Not my name," Twig said. He glared, and pointed at his own chest with authority he didn’t have yet. "Vos. I am Vos."

"You are," Tesarus said. He shifted the bag to the other hand, and slapped the kid on the back. Tesarus clicked his tongue, and whistled. "And I’m gonna’ call you ‘Twig.’"

"Not my name," he repeated. Twig’s fingers twitched, and he shifted on his foot. He glanced between Tarn and Tesarus, probably unclear on what his limits were as the new guy. "Vos."

"Twig," Tesarus repeated. He leaned on Vos’ shoulder, and laughed. "Suits you better."

Tesarus’ back hit the ground, his mind dizzy and his eyes staring at the sky for some reason—right. On his back. Tesarus wheezed, looking up at the glaring little killer standing over his head. Tesarus’ face split into a real smile. “Nice…throw.”

"Vos," Twig hissed, grabbing the body bag by the top end of the bag. He dragged it toward Tarn, body tense and a glare on his face so fierce it’d melt steel.

Tesarus giggled, rolling over and standing back up.

Well damn it all to hell and back:  _Twig was downright adorable when he was mad._

Tesarus clicked his tongue and followed with a grin. He was going to love working with Twig from now on.


	2. Whipped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Master Tarn tells Vos he can’t have what he wants, so he goes to get it from Tesarus.

"Flog me."

"What?" Tesarus asked, half a roll stuffed in his mouth. He shoved the rest of it in with his thumb, and swallowed. "Say that again?”

Twig shoved a wrapped up whip in Tesarus’ face, arm ridged straight and shaking like a nest of hornets. His eyes were wet around the edges, almost steaming with the angry fire in them. Twig hissed again, “Flog me.”

Tesarus leaned back from the whip, biting his lip from the little pieces of glass Vos had woven into the end. He swallowed, and tapped his fingers next to the dinner plate he’d snuck off to his room. His room that suddenly felt half the size with Twig glaring down at him and demanding to be flogged.

"Why?" Tesarus asked, rolling his shoulder back and wincing harder the longer he stared at the weapon inching closer to his face.

Twig growled, slamming the weapon on the table. The end whipped the side of his plate, the two pieces of glass cracking sharply together. Twig grit his teeth, and breathed heavily through his nose. “Master will not. You do it.”

"Tarn won’t flog you?" Tesarus asked, glancing between Twig and the whip. Tesarus had been on the receiving end of a beating or two after screwing up, but Tarn’d never bothered to use a whip. Tesarus licked the side of his teeth. "I don’t think I should be hitting you if Tarn said ‘no’ already."

Twig growled, sucking a breath and squeezed his fingers around the whip. The leather stretched and whined under his grip. “You break rules all time. Why not now?”

"Because you’re asking me to hit you," Tesarus said slowly, nodding his head toward Vos’ hand. "Why do you even want me to do that anyway?"

"Hunt last night. I make mistake," Vos said, dropping his gaze to the floor. His chest danced as he tried to control his heavy breathing. "Prey escaped. Should be punished."

"But it wasn’t a big deal. Helex got him right after, so it’s not like he really got away or nothing," Tesarus said, leaning a further inch back when those bright eyes shot back up to glare. Tesarus twisted his fingers on his desk and scooted his chair back another inch. "I mean, shouldn’t you be happy Tarn’s letting you off the hook for a little slip?"

"No," Twig said sharply. He grabbed Tesarus’ hand and shoved the whip in it, closing Tesarus’ fingers around the handle. "Asked Master to punish. He say no. Should be punished. You do it. Now."

"Vos," Tesarus said, ditching the nickname just this once for the sake of seriousness, "I’m not going to flog you."

Tesarus got a quick growl as a warning before his chair was flipped and he was on his back. He grunted when Twig dropped on his chest like something ten times heavier than he was, and winced when the little brat shoved his shiny new scalpel up under Tesarus’ throat.

Twig leaned over, digging the tiniest edge of the scalpel into Tesarus’ neck. “You will do it, or I will do something to force Master to properly punish me. You think bleeding out pack-mate before hunt tomorrow will work?”

“Jeesh, Twig! Take it easy!” Tesarus hissed, when the blade cut the skin. He shoved the brat off with his arm, and kicked him. Twig backed up, but didn’t relax from his stance. Tesarus huffed, rubbing his neck and frowning at the blood on his fingers. “You want me to hit you that bad? Fine! I ‘ll hit you, but we sure as hell aren’t doing it in my room.”

"Location does not matter," Vos said, sitting up straight. He kept the scalpel in his hand, and continued staring Tesarus down—Heaven forbid he change his mind! Vos picked up the whip and threw it at Tesarus’ stomach. "My room fine."

The weapon unraveled, revealing a rather short cat-of-nine tails instead of the longer whip Tesarus had thought it was.  _That explains all the glass_. He picked it up and grabbed a rag to hold against his neck until the bleeding stopped. Vos pointed at the door, still glaring.

"I’m going, I’m going," Tesarus said, wrapping the whip back up. He shoved it in his vest, and left his room. "Are you coming?"

Twig shut his door with a harsh click and pointed down the hallway. Message was loud and clear: Tesarus first.

"I can not believe you are asking to get punished," Tesarus grumbled as he stomped down the hallway. Twig followed behind, walking quickly and ushering Tesarus along faster like he wanted to get beaten right this instant—oh wait. He did. Tesarus shook his head. "Floggings hurt, remember?"

"That is the point of punishment, yes," Twig said. He stepped ahead for a few seconds to unlock his door and usher Tesarus inside. "Before Master come home. Now."

"I swear if I get in trouble for this—"

"Move," Twig pushed Tesarus’ back and knocked him fully into the bedroom.

Tesarus snorted, but took his chance to look around while he could get it. Twig wasn’t keen on letting anyone into his room, be it him or Helex or even Master Tarn. Tesarus sniffed, rubbing his back while Twig locked up again. Room was bare. Bed, dresser, and a little trunk at the end. No shelves, no knickknacks or plates. Just furniture and a tiny trunk.

"You know most people unpack after a few months," Tesarus said, chuckling. "Doesn’t all have to stay cooped up in the traveling trunk."

"Twenty strikes, no slacking," Twig said, ignoring Tesarus’ thoughtful commentary. He unbuttoned his vest with slim, deft fingers and folded it on the bed. His belt harness that held his scalpels and knives followed. Twig glanced at Tesarus and nodded toward the whip in his vest. “Minimum."

Tesarus snorted, and pulled out the weapon Twig had dragged out from who knows where. He turned it in his hand as Vos started to unbutton the top of his shirt. “What’re you—”

The sliver of white skin that peeked out from Twig’s collar stopped Tesarus’ words in their track. The shirt dropped away, revealing a spider-web of thick, raised welts and lashes across Twig’s back. The pearly white scars stood out like mother-of-pearl against his darker skin, and the size and shapes varied like someone couldn’t make up their mind where they were hitting.

Tesarus whistled, and clicked his tongue. “This ain’t your first flogging, is it?”

“Twenty strikes. Do not slack,” Twig repeated. He removed his belt and shuffled his pants down so that the small of his back was more properly exposed. Tesarus licked his lips. Twig walked to the far wall near the bathroom, and braced his hands on the wall, tensing his back. “Watch blood splatter. No staining.”

Tesarus wiped down his face with his hand, fingers catching on the stubble. The whip felt like lead in his hand, and Twig’s back reflected the light from his desk in the smooth parts of the skin.

He wanted to touch it.

“Am I counting or you?” Tesarus said, shaking his head and bringing himself back to the task on hand. He needed to whip Vos, not fondle him. Tesarus licked his lips, and tapped his thigh with the whip. He tried to force a casual laugh. “I’ve heard it can go both ways, and not sure which one you’re used to. I think.”

“You count,” Vos said. He grit his teeth, and growled. “I repeat. Stop stalling. Punish me. Now.”

“Whatever you say, Twig.” Tesarus rolled his eyes, gripped the whip harder.   _I can’t believe I’m doing this._  Tesarus pulled his hand back, shaking out the nine-tails and knocking the glass together. “One.”

The first hit struck the mid of the back, making Twig draw in a hiss of breath. He turned his head over his shoulder, and glared. “One. Too light. Stop slacking.”

“I don’t tell you how to do your job,” Tesarus hissed. He drew the whip back and slapped Twig harder near the side of his ribs. The skin tore from the glass, and a tiny sliver of red snuck down to his trousers. “Don’t tell me how to do mine. And two.”

“Two,” Twig repeated. He grinned—son of a bitch  _grinned_ —and said, “Better. Keep going.”

Tesarus pulled his hair back and rolled his eyes. Twig wanted him to keep going?  _Fine._  He’d keep going. Tesarus swung his hand back and whacked Twig as hard as he could. “Three.”

Twig screamed, his back arching up as the slashes opened in lines of blood that trickled over the scared skin. He snapped his mouth shut and his chest heaved as he gathered himself again to hold the wall. “Th-three.”

Tesarus swallowed, and rubbed a bit of sweat off the side of his neck. There was no way he was going to make it to twenty if Twig made a sound like that after each hit.

And he wasn’t far off.

Somewhere around lash number ten, Tesarus’ hand was getting numb and there was enough blood on Twig’s back that the top of his pants were soaked. That glass on the end was nasty business, it was. Even Twig’s moans and panting weren’t as nice sounding as they were before.

Too much shaking and shivering to get his rocks off.

“You want to stop?” Tesarus asked, holding the end of the whip up to keep the ends from dripping on the wood floor. Twig’s knees rattled as they knocked together, and he could barely hold himself up on the wall. His finger’s curled in and out, and his heavy breathing sounded like there was water in his lungs.  _Twenty, my ass,_ Tesarus thought to himself. He sighed and shook his head. “Come on, ten’s enough.”

“K-keep going,” Twig hissed. He glared at the wall, and straightened his shoulders up. Twig sucked in a breath and smacked the wall. “Not done.”

Tesarus snorted, and tossed the whip over Twig’s shoulder, so that the glass hung down near his stomach. He leaned over and pat his arm. “Any more and you’re going to be dripping all over the floor. We’re done.”

“Then get a rag,” Twig said, turning and shoving the whip back into Tesarus’ hand. “Twenty. Twenty is minimum.”

“No, we’re done,” Tesarus said. He pushed the whip right back into Twig’s hand.

“No,” Twig said. “Only ten. Ten is half. I can take it. Keep going.”

“I don’t care if you can or not, I’m not doing it anymore,” Tesarus said. He smacked Twig in the back and pulled his hand back, shoving the bloodied palm in his face. “You’re already bleeding, I’m tired, and the only thing we’re doing is wrapping your back and getting washed up for bed before Tarn or Helex comes checking in on us.”

“Not weak. No pity. I can take full punishment. Finish,” Twig continued, dropping his head to stare at the floor. He wrung the whip’s handle in his hand. Twig sucked in a breath and bit the edge of his lip as he dipped his head further down. “Please.”

“Didn’t say you couldn’t take it, Twig.” Tesarus threw a wet towel at his head, and sighed. “I’m saying that I can’t.”

“You do worse every hunt, why problem now?” Twig asked. he wrapped the wet towel around his back and pouted.  _Cute,_  Tesarus thought to himself, biting the edge of his lip. Twig interrupted his lovely thought with a snort. “Punishment is nothing.”

“Well for starters, I’m not going to chop you up into little pieces and stuff you into a bag to never see again,” Tesarus snorted, sitting on Twig’s bed and falling back. He covered his eyes and sighed. “I’m going to be thinking about your back at breakfast, you jerk.”

“Child,” Twig said. He walked into the bathroom, little drops of blood flying off from his quick stride. “You are child.”

“Should have thought of that before you asked me to give you twenty lashes,” Tesarus shouted toward the bathroom. He rubbed his face and groaned. “Dammit. Now I’m hungry.”

Twig threw the bloody towel at Tesarus’ head and walked past him. He shoved the stack of white bandages onto the bed and glared. “Help wrap then, if won’t finish.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Tesarus rolled up, letting the towel fall in his lap. He used it to wipe off the bits of blood escaping the growing clots, and wrapped Twig’s chest quick as he could. Couldn’t let his fingers linger too long, now could he? Tesarus tied off the last bit. “There. Good enough for now.”

Twig nodded and started to pull his shirt and vest back on. He huffed, buttoning up the last few near his collar. “Next time, twenty. No excuses.”

“Next time?” Tesarus groaned. “You’re going to make me do this again?”

“If I fail, I must be punished.” Twig shrugged, smoothing down his vest. “If Master won’t, you will have to do.”

“Have to do?” Tesarus asked, more indignation in his voice than he’d like. He shook his head and rolled off the bed. “Never you mind, I don’t want to know.”

Twig huffed. “Thank  you for now. Go now.”

“Flog me, go home,” Tesarus said in his best ‘Twig Voice.’ He got hit in the arm for his troubles and chuckled. “Get some sleep.”

Tesarus whacked Twig dead center in the back and grinned with then blood seeped through the bandages in little red splotches. “See you at breakfast.”

Twig hissed, frown on his face, but there was a grin in his eyes as he reached behind to rub the spot.

And that…that was interesting. Tesarus licked his lips as he excused himself from Twig’s barren room.

 Maybe Tesarus needed to work out a little more. He had to make it to twenty or he’d disappoint Twig again.

Who’d want to do that?


	3. Lone Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vos is as proud as can be when Tarn trusts him and Tesarus on their first unsupervised Hunt. Or at least he is until he realizes that Tesarus needs all the supervision he can get—and Vos is stuck as his sitter. Hopefully he can wrangle the older teen, and pull off the assignment without trouble.

The dirt and grass beneath his bare feet had turned to clay and brick under the soles of shoes straight from a respected cordwainer.

Tarn’s Hound leapt from roof top to roof, landing on the clay tiles with ease. The moon hung overhead, lighting the slick tiles still damp from an earlier rain. They clicked lightly with each touch, but Vos would be the last to complain about the update in his scenery over the past year. He would take brick and mortar over the dust and mud of his prior life and master any day.

It was cleaner.

Vos slipped down the slope of one side, hanging near the center to keep out of view from those on the street. The air was cool against his skin through his clean clothes, and the weight of his new tools gifted to him by Master Tarn were a comfort. Vos nearly smiled. What a wonderful night to hunt. To think, Master Tarn was trusting him with his first unsupervised kill. He would not let the Master—

"Come on, Twig! I can’t follow you when you’re running around on the roofs like a monkey!" his whining companion shouted up from the alley below.

Vos slid down to the edge of the roof, cursing that oaf’s existence. This night needed to go perfectly. They had to make Master Tarn proud and that idiot was shouting like they were in the middle of an empty field. How had he survived to be seventeen? They were in the middle of the city! Vos’ head popped over the edge of the roof, glaring down at Tesarus. “Quiet! They hear!”

"It’s the middle of the night and no one is out," Tesarus huffed, not looking the least bit concerned. The brute had the nerve to pout at being scolded. Vos rolled his eyes as Tesarus scratched the back of his head, before re-tying his ponytail. "You worry to much."

"And you not enough," Vos replied. He was moving off the roof before the second footfall around the corner dropped on the cobblestone. Vos leapt, covering the man’s mouth and slamming him into the ground. Vos sat on the intruder’s back and glared at Tesarus as he moseyed around the corner. "Point. This look like ‘no one’?"

"Okay, so one bystander," Tesarus said, cheeks flushing at the top. Vos continued glaring, holding the struggling man down. Tesarus kicked the side of the boy’s head and huffed. "Want me to handle that?"

Vos grabbed both sides of the man’s neck and snapped it to the side. The body went limp. Vos huffed, “Handled it. You carry.”

"Yeah, yeah," Tesarus grunted, before yawning heavily into his hand. "I wish we didn’t have to do this so late at night. Could be sleeping."

"Knew we were going out," Vos said, slipping off the back of their unexpected prey.  _One slip up_. Master Tarn didn’t need to know about it. It was fine. “Could have napped.”

"When?" Tesarus huffed, crossing his arms. "I had chores, and work to still get done in the kitchen and helping Helex. Just because you don’t seem to sleep doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t."

"You spent afternoon in stable," Vos said, brushing his vest off, "with maid. How work?"

"Well, holding ‘um down can be work, ya’ know." Tesarus grinned, shrugging his shoulder a bit. He clicked his tongue, and winked at Vos. "Don’t always know what’s good for them, and they struggle a bit."

"Not work," Vos shook his head. He didn’t know how Tesarus found it so enjoyable to pester the maids at all hours. What was the appeal of a wriggling, sobbing woman? Even the moaning ones were pathetic and annoying. Vos twisted his earring a bit, scrunching his nose at Tesarus. "Waste of time."

"You might be right that it’s a bit more on the fun side than the work side," Tesarus said, pointing at Vos. "But it is not a waste of time. Something you’d know if you gave it a shot once in a while instead of staying all coop—"

"Get the body," Vos said, cutting him off. "Stop talking."

"Hah, that means I’m right," Tesarus said, slapping Vos on the side of his shoulder. "But okay, okay. We still got a job to do, don’t we?"

Vos stepped over the body, and crossed his arms. The alley was quiet, and it was looking like this might be their only hang up. now if only Tesarus would focus. Vos counted to ten in his head. They would be fine.

Tesarus picked up the dead body and swung one arm over his shoulder, and held it’s waist against his own. He carried the man like he was hauling around a passed out drunk, and for all intents and purposes, that’s what their dead prey resembled. Vos breathed easier, and relaxed his shoulders. At least Tesarus wasn’t completely hopeless. Vos rubbed his face and continued walking on foot in the alley.

"I think you two can handle this one alone," Master Tarn had said, right before they had left. Vos had been gathering the last of their instructions from Master Tarn, while Tesarus packed their things. He had pat Vos on the back, with a smile. "I think you’ll be a better match with Tesarus, anyway. He works well with Helex, but they tend to get distracted when they’re alone together. Too good of friends you see."

Vos had nodded, and after memorizing the photo of their target, he then joined Tesarus for a quick carriage ride out to the edge of town.

Since then, Vos had come to the very real conclusion that while Master Tarn trusted Vos to do a mission unsupervised, he did not trust the same of Tesarus. Working alone with the brute, had made that more clear than ever.

Now if only Vos hadn’t been chosen to be the babysitter. He wondered if Helex was this much trouble.

"This is the place, right?" Tesarus said, stopping before Vos. He shifted his burden, looking up at the house just in front of them. The two story brick hovel, was dim, all the lanterns snuffed out. He shifted the dead weight of their witness, and looked back at Vos. "Dark house at the end of the alley?"

"Yes, this right," Vos said. He held a finger up to his mouth, shushing his pack-mate. "I go through second floor. Open door."

"Kay," Tesarus said. He took a few steps over and leaned on the side of the building and shifted his cargo on his side. "I’m ready whenever you are."

Vos nodded, and stepped up on a crate. He pulled himself up on the window sills with ease. A quick pick of the lock later, and he was inside. The sparsely decorated second floor bedroom smelled of dust and rats. Vos saw no one, and headed for the steps downstairs.

Scalpel at the ready, he descended one step at a time, eyes open and watching for their—Vos paused standing at the bottom frame.

Vos walked to the front door, and opened it to greet his partner.

Tesarus glanced at Vos, and then into the back room. He whispered, “What’s up?”

"It empty," Vos answered, squeezing his scalpel tight.

* * *

"What do you mean empty?" Tesarus asked. Vos opened the door for him, stepping to the side. Tesarus dumped their bonus prey on the ground next to the door as he came in, and Vos closed the door behind them with a solid click. He locked it as Tesarus looked around the single room first floor and frowned. "This ain’t right. He’s supposed to be home."

  
Vos nodded in agreement, and bit the side of his thumb. They’d done their research, and Master Tarn had given explicit instructions on where to find their prey of the night. “I thought cellar, but no see door.”  
  
Tesarus walked by Vos, humming a bit as he looked around the room. He stopped at a table, plucking a piece of bread and cheese of the table. Vos covered his eyes as Tesarus took a bite from it, shoving the rest of it in his mouth. Tesarus swallowed and stopped, his gaze locked on a filthy rug to the right of the kitchen table.   
  
Tesarus pulled his carving knife out from it’s sleeve under his pants leg and trotted over. “I found it.”  
  
"I see," Vos said, pouting. Tesarus pulled up the rug, revealing a flat wooden door in the floor. He pulled up on the embedded handle, opening the entrance to the cellar.  _How did I miss that?_  Vos asked himself, even as he gave a begrudged,  “Good job.”  
  
"We used to have one in our old house," Tesarus said, licking a bit of breadcrumbs off his thumb. He headed down the stone steps, one at a time with his knife up. "Papa covered his with a rug, too. To keep from tripping on the handle."  
  
"Shh," Vos said, putting his finger up to his mouth. "Be quiet."  
  
Tesarus turned, half down the stairs, with his upper body still out of the opening. He leaned on it, crossing his arms on the floor. He pointed his knife at Vos, and said, “This isn’t my first time doing this, you know.”  
  
"First time alone?" Vos whispered, scalpel out. He slipped by Tesarus, squeezing through the opening to be first down the stairs. He wouldn’t know how to surprise someone if he had a month to plan in advance.  
  
Tesarus let Vos lead, pausing at the top of the stairs. He lowered his voice, and hissed, “No.”  
  
"Then act like it."  
  
Vos ignored Tesarus’ huff in reply, and worked his way down the stairs, as quiet as possible. If their prey was hiding down in his cellar, he was probably waiting for them. It should be an easy kill, but any prey of Master Tarn’s certainly had a trick or two up their sleeves. Vos tapped down on the bottom step, and the smell hit him like a sack of bricks.  
  
"Why’d you stop?" Tesarus whispered, body tense.   
  
Vos relaxed his shoulders and stepped down into the cellar fully. He lit a lamp, lighting the room and snorted at Tesarus’ whistle. “Someone beat us here.”  
  
"What a mess," Tesarus said, straightening up and tapping a few feet into the room. He stepped around a puddle of blood and looked down at their prey. "Makes me look neat."  
  
Vos made note of the giant ‘O’ carved into the back of the prey’s shirt as he strolled around it. The stench of the aging blood spoke of the hours the body had already been left to rot here. The cuts were sloppy and vicious, as if meant to cover the room in as much blood as possible—in which the unknown hunter succeeded. Vos sniffed, scrunching his nose in disgust as he stepped over puddles. The room was drenched in it, with barely any clean spots left to walk.   
  
Tesarus would be tracking it everywhere.  
  
Vos stopped at the man’s face, and crouched down to get a better look. Maybe this wasn’t their target and he could still do the task Master Tarn had given him. Vos tilted the head up with the edge of his scalpel, and then dropped it again with a hiss. “Our prey.”  
  
"Not any more, looks like," Tesarus said, rubbing the side of his nose. He leaned on a table, and crossed his arms. Tesarus tapped the flat of his knife along his bicep, clicking his tongue. "He’s kinda dead."  
  
"I see that," Vos hissed. He stood up, glaring at his uncooperative partner and huffed. "Who stole?"  
  
"Why do you think I know?" Tesarus asked, glaring right back. "You think I’d have come all the way out here to the edge of town if I knew this guy was already chopped?"  
  
Vos growled but did not answer. This was…not his fault. Sadly. As much as it would be nice to have a concrete person to blame right now, Tesarus wasn’t exactly the planning type. Or the most ambitious. Vos stood, and glared down at the body. It practically mocked him with not only the sloppy execution, but the fact someone would even dare steal his kill.  
  
Tesarus huffed, and pulled himself up to sit on the table. He swung his legs back and forth and tapped his knife against his thigh. “Now what?”  
  
"I do not know," Vos said. He rubbed his mouth and looked around the room again. The corners were dark and quiet, the light from the lantern not quite reaching them. Their prey was gutted in the center. What was he missing?  
  
Vos looked up.  
  
"Tesarus," Vos asked, slowly.  
  
"What, Twig?" He answered.  
  
Vos pointed to the words written in blood above their heads on the ceiling. “What does ‘Overbear’ mean?”

* * *

Tesarus scrunched his nose, and sniffed. “Well, ‘overbearing’ means ‘too much to handle’, so I guess overbear would mean something similar?”

"No help," Vos said. He sighed, and looked down at their dead victim. "Means nothing."

"Nonsense," a smooth voice said from the shadows in the corner. Vos did not so much as twitch—instincts taking over. His insides felt like ice at the man’s tone, but also burning fire that he managed to keep himself hidden in the room for so long. Vos turned his head, ever so slightly to watch the shadows move as the man stepped out. "It means that you’re both in over your heads."

"Who?" Vos asked, taking a single step to face the man.

"Look at Tarn, still sending children to do the work he doesn’t want to," the man sighed, shaking his head and ignoring Vos’ inquiry. He fiddled with his far too clean sleeves, and clicked his tongue. "So lazy. Whatever happened to him? Ah, but that’s not important now, is it? Let’s get a look at you two."

Vos opened his mouth to speak again, but he was interrupted by a choked whine to his side.

Tesarus had turned white, sweat on his brow and teeth clenched and chattering. He looked ready to run, like a terrified mouse which was absurdly unbecoming of his bulk and strength. Vos closed his mouth, and narrowed his eyes. Tesarus swallowed, and his eyes kept darting toward the stairs, his foot sliding back. The grip on his carving knife was deathly tight, turning his knuckles whiter than his face.

Vos may not know who the new stranger was, but apparently Tesarus did.

"Let’s see, you are definitely new. He’s never had anyone that brown before, so I’m sure I would have remembered," the man said, waving to Vos. He pointed at Tesarus, and grinned. "But I have seen you before! The—the, oh what was it? I know! The butcher boy! What a treat to see one of his toys more than once. How rare, how rare."

The stranger turned back to Vos, and shook his head with a hand over his chest. He sounded like a woman gossiping in the street the way he spoke so casually. “Tarn’s toys don’t last long, so this never happens. Did you know that when he plucked you up?”

Vos narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?”

"It’s quit true!" The man said. He waved over at the trembling Tesarus. "He replaced another young chap, and there were dozens before him. All useful for a time, and then poof! Down to his cellar or dead in the streets. Always so hard to tell which way his fancy will strike when he’s tired of his things."

Tesarus whimpered, an embarrassing sniveling noise that turned Vos’ stomach. What was going on?

The tall stranger caught the sound, smiling brightly. He took another step toward Tesarus, and grabbed Tesarus’ chin, thumb digging hard into his cheek. Tesarus dropped his blade, and the man clicked his tongue. “Wonder if he’d mind if I played a bit? Surely he wouldn’t mind with such a fresh new toy just over there.”

Vos hissed, “Who are you?”

"Overlord," the man said. He let go of Tesarus’ cheek, and smacked it lightly. The butcher’s eyes couldn’t have gotten any wider if they tried, the pupils dilated fully in his fear. "I suppose I’ve had my fun. Tell Tarn I said, ‘hello’ would you?"

Vos continued his glaring, as the other man hummed. He fixed up his coat jacket and put on a pair of gloves. This ‘Overlord’ seemed content to take his time, smug and satisfied after stealing their kill. Vos glared harder.

"Oh, never mind. I’ll do it myself," Overlord said, sticking his hand in his pocket. "You can never really trust children to deliver messages.

"But, I’m sure he’ll get this one," Overlord said, pulling his hand from his pocket. The handful of glass shards were shoved onto Tesarus’ face before Vos could move. Overlord laughed, shaking the last of the pieces off his thick leather gloves as Tesarus hissed in agony. Overlord stepped on a fallen piece, covered in droplets of blood. "He’ll read it loud and clear."

Vos was moving when Overlord grabbed the back of Tesarus’ head and smashed his face into the side table. He was up the stairs by the time Vos got to his partner’s side.

"Tesarus! Stop moving!" Vos hissed, grabbing the other boy’s hands. He pulled them away from his bleeding face, and sucked in a breath. "Don’t touch."

"We’re not dead, we’re not dead, we’re not dead," Tesarus mumbled, over and over. he grabbed Vos’ lapels and shook him hard. "How are we not dead?"

Tesarus’ hands shook under Vos’ touch. The bigger boy dropped his head, breathing hard in and out as if he were drowning. The big oaf was a shivering wreck, and blood dripped from the shards of glass embedded in his face and cheeks from the heaving. Vos frowned heavily.

Those would scar.

"Idiot," Vos said, pulling Tesarus’ chin up. He lightly touched a piece of glass and tested it, pulling it out slowly to aggravate the wound less. It bled more freely when he plucked it loose. Vos pressed his handkerchief against it and waited for the blood to clot. One down, and only twenty or so to go. "Never tremble before stronger hunters. Makes you target."

"You don’t get it," Tesarus squirmed. He grabbed Vos’ wrist and hissed hard when another piece of glass was plucked free. "That was Overlord. Overlord! That guy ain’t right in the head. It wouldn’t have mattered if I was crying or laughing at him—he still could have killed us."

"Still," Vos said. He reached for another piece, and repeated his pattern. "Foolish to show fear."

"Yeah," Tesarus said, breathing harder. "Let’s see you say that after you see him do that," he waved his hand at their stolen prey, "in real time. How’d I not recognize it?"

Tesarus continued to shiver, but remained still as Vos tended to his face. He did not understand. Surely their Master Tarn had done worse? Why did this man scare Tesarus so—

The body they had dragged into the home thumped heavily down the stairs, collapsing in a heap at the base.

The cellar door slammed shut, and Vos abandoned Tesarus face, and made an internal note to smack him as he saw Tesarus start feeling around at the glass leftover. Another loud thump sounded. Vos pressed up on the door—but it wouldn’t budge.

Overlord had trapped them.

* * *

"It’s not going to budge," Tesarus grunted, dropping down onto the step after one last attempt at tackling the basement door. He sat, and rubbed the side of his face around the leftover glass shards with a pout. Vos knocked his hand away, and he hissed. "Hey!"

"Stop that," Vos said. He pressed his fingers above his head into the flat door that rested in the main floor, and sighed. "He locked us in."

"Yeah, but wonder why," Tesarus said. He dug his thumb into his shoulder, massaging the side. "Think he’s trying to pin that murder on us?"

"I do not think so," Vos said, taking a step down the stairs. "Something else."

"Like what?" Tesarus asked.

While Tesarus pondered on the steps, Vos stilled. He could hear movement above, and a slight crackling? Vos heard the door above slam shut, and the sound increased. Vos sniffed, and hissed. “Fire.”

"Fire?" Tesarus said. He reached up and pressed his hand against the wooden door and frowned. "Ah, that’s getting hot up there."

"Lit house on fire!" Vos hissed, grabbing Tesarus and pulling him away from the door. "Get down."

"Don’t have to tell me twice," Tesarus said, getting up and following him down the steps.

Vos looked around the room, and up to the ceiling. The fire would surely spread farther across the floor. The entire thing would collapse down on them and trap them in a stone floor if they weren’t out soon. He wasn’t going to die this way. Not on his first solo mission!

"We need a way out," Tesarus said, looking around.

"Yes, but where?"

"There!" Tesarus said. He tapped over to the far corner of the room. Vos looked above him, and saw the slightest hints of red peaking through the cracks in the wood. The smell of smoke seeped through, even as it rose far above their heads on another floor. Tesarus stopped at the side, and smacked his hand on the wall. "Window."

"It’s too small," Vos said, squinting at the slim opening near the ceiling. Tesarus ripped the window open, and waved Vos over. "Will not fit."

"I won’t, but you will," Tesarus said. He grabbed Vos by the arm, and hauled him up to grab the sill. "You’re a twig, remember?"

Vos frowned, but allowed Tesarus to push him up to the window by the bottom of his foot. He crawled through, and once on the street, leaned down to the window. The fire had spread to the walls of the building above, and crackled loudly. Vos hissed, “What about you?”

"Hoping you get that other door open," Tesarus said, shrugging. His eyes darted to the ceiling, and jumped back when a few planks fell down.

Vos hissed, and jumped up. He ran around the building back toward the door on the other end, and without hesitation, slammed his shoulder into the door. The weakened wood fell away, shoving the smoldering pieces into the center of the room. He covered his mouth to fight the smoke with the inside of his arm, and looked around the flames for the trap door.

"Hurry up, would you!?" Tesarus called out from down below, his voice muffled by the fire.

Vos found the dresser that had been shoved over the door and was thankful it hadn’t caught fully on fire. Little blessings he would take.

"Get ready!" Vos called out. He pushed on the dresser, and shoved it inch by inch off the door. "Will open soon!"

A section of the floor collapsed on the far corner of the room, and Vos cursed. He pushed harder, moving the obstacle off the door. Vos yanked the door up, hissing as his hand burnt on the hot metal handle. He shouted down, “Move! Now!”

Tesarus jumped over a burning piece of wood, and hiked his way up the stairs with impressive speed for someone his size. He slapped Vos on the side as he stepped up onto the main floor. “Thanks.”

"Move," Vos said, shoving Tesarus forward.

They both hit the street, and turned around in time to see the fire hit the roof. The entire building blazed in an orange and red inferno, the flames eating away at anything it could touch. Vos and Tesarus headed away from the building and took shelter in a near by alley.

"Not bad for our first solo mission, he?" Tesarus laughed nervously. He leaned on the wall, and shrugged. "I won’t tell Tarn if you don’t, Twig."

Vos ripped a piece of glass out of his face, and huffed when Tesarus whined.


	4. Free Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vos feels useless. Why won’t Tarn assign him a household chore like the rest?

Tesarus was plucking chicken feathers.

Vos sat on the window sill, his knees pulled up near his chest. The wood in his hand felt good, and the knife even better as he widdled away flakes and pieces of it to fall to the floor in the busy kitchen.

Tesarus plucked chickens, getting ready to butcher and clean them for supper. The maids flocked around him doing various chores and duties in the kitchen. Cooking, cleaning, and organizing. Helex was outside tending the horses and managing the stables. Everyone had something to do. Some sort of work.

Except for Vos.

He jerked his knife, slicing off the ear of the tiger he was carving. Vos slowly breathed in, and glanced at Tesarus. He bit the edge of his lip, and asked, “When work?”

"Tonight," Tesarus said, growling and shaking his hand to clear the feathers. He sniffed and rubbed under his nose. "We’re going out with Tarn."

"No," Vos said. He turned back to his little trinket, and used the sharp blade to carve out a delicate eye in the figure. "Been here month. When will Master give me work. Like you and Helex?"

"Uh," Tesarus said, looking up. He shoved the naked chicken aside and grabbed a second. "You’re kinda already working at night. Why do you want chores if you don’t have to?"

"Not guest," Vos said. He carved a small stripe into the back. "You work at night. You have job during day. Want the same."

"Why?" Tesarus asked, waving at his table covered in white and brown feathers. He scrunched his nose and shook his head. "You think I like doing chores? I’d rather be taking a nap than this."

Vos bit the side of his thumb. “You do not like your work?”

"I like the skilled part. Cutting up cows and pigs just right the way only a butcher can. I’m proud of that!" Tesarus said. He rubbed the back of his neck, scowling when he felt the feathers he’d stuck there. Tesarus wiped his hand on his pants to free the feathers, and then smacked them off the back of his neck. "But plucking chickens? Anybody can pluck a chicken, you know what I mean? No fun in it. It’s just busy work."

"Still work," Vos said. He squeezed his knife in one hand. "Guests do nothing. I do not want to be a guest."

"Tarn likes you more than us, Twig," Tesarus said, looking between Vos and the maids. He grabbed a chunk of feathers and dumped them on the end of the table. "You’re better than us, higher like Tarn, y’a know? Why not enjoy the free time?"

"Do not want free time!" Vos said, throwing the wooden figure on the floor. It clattered next to Tesarus’ foot. The larger boy leaned down and picked it up. Vos rubbed his face and counted to ten in his head. "I feel useless."

"I wouldn’t. I’m still pretty sure being free of chores is a reward," Tesarus said. He held the small unfinished tiger in both hands, turning it over. Tesarus smiled at the little tiger. "You’re really good at this."

"Just a toy," Vos said, sighing. He hopped off the window and walked over to the work table. The maids hurried back to their duties to hide their eavesdropping. Lazy women. Vos grabbed a chicken and mechanically began plucking its feathers. "They tricked you, you know. This is woman’s work."

"Huh?" Tesarus asked, placing the tiny tiger on the edge of the table.

"They tricked you," Vos said. He shoved the cleaned chicken over and grabbed another. He plucked the feathers into a neat stack, ignoring the dumb look on Tesarus’ face. "Chef told them to pluck feathers and clean chickens. They told you to, and you did without question."

Tesarus’ face fell, and he stared at the chickens. He swallowed, and grabbed another chicken. He continued working, but the movements were more forceful. “Guess it’s my own fault if I fell for it.”

"They should be disciplined," Vos said. The tiger toy mocked him from the table. He had four more back in his room. The fruits of his ‘rewarded free time.’ Vos continued plucking feathers. "Who does that?"

"I ain’t a tattle, Twig," Tesarus huffed. He grabbed the last dead chicken from the bag and shredded the feathers from it.

"Who would punish?" Vos asked again.

"What is it with you and punishments?" Tesarus said, huffing. He shoved the plucked feathers into the bag, clearing the table for the next step. "Just because you’re a masochist doesn’t mean the rest of us are."

Vos sighed, and rolled his eyes. “Is it cook?”

"The head butler, okay?" Tesarus said. He leaned on the table, picking up the tiny tiger again. He rolled it between his fingers, pressing his thumb into the carvings. "He’s in charge of the maids and stable boys and us and all that stuff. That’s his job. Maintain the staff."

"I see," Vos said.

"Are you going to finish this?" Tesarus asked, holding over the tiger. "It really is good."

"I have four I can give you," Vos said, absently. He leaned away from the table. "You said I am favored?"

"Yeah, why?" Tesarus asked, closing his hand around the small toy. "What about it?"

"If I asked for chore, for job," Vos said slowly. He glanced at the giggling maids in the corner of his eye. Gossiping instead of working, when Tesarus dealt with their chores. "You think he would give it to me?"

"Maybe?" Tesarus asked. "Don’t really know. You’d be in a better position to ask than me or Helex, anyway."

"I think I shall," Vos said.

"Twig?" Tesarus said, sitting up straight. A horrified look fell over his face as he took a guess at Vos’ intent. "Twig!"

Vos left Tesarus without another word. Leaving the toy and the kitchen behind him with a bright new future ahead. If this is how the head butler managed the staff, clearly he was inept. Useless. More ready for the chopping block than any of the chickens that Tesarus was now cleaning. Perhaps he had too much on his plate. Managing the house staff was surely a busy job. 

And Vos had all the free time in the world.

Why not replace the useless limb?

Vos smiled under his breath. “Butler” had a nice ring to it, and a title he’d be more than happy to claim.


End file.
